


Cell Block Tango

by hyesoh



Series: 10 Songs Drabble Challenge [EXO] [7]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 02:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12288960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyesoh/pseuds/hyesoh
Summary: Luhan, imprisoned for murder, is offered help by a boy who suddenly appeared in his cell.





	Cell Block Tango

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the original drabble I posted on Livejournal on September 2013. I was unsatisfied with it, and therefore thought to write a new one instead.
> 
> Drabble #6 of the 10 Songs Drabble Challenge I did. The song is **Cell Block Tango from the film Chicago (2002)**.

Luhan knew that, with enough time, prisons would be more humane. He knows it to be true as he had seen the evidence in his dreams. Instead of insect-ridden heaps of straw, there would be actual beds and pillows and blankets. Instead of a heel of dry, sometimes even moldy bread, there would be actual meals. Prisoners would be given time to be under the sun and feel the wind on their faces. With more time, latrines could even convert piss and shit into energy that could provide artificial, indoor light that will not burn, even when doused in oil and lit. And with even more time--for in the dream, humans interacted cordially with species that couldn’t possibly be from this world, there wouldn’t be prisons, or the need to have them, at all.

His dreams comforted him now, when it used to frighten him. There was no need to fear truth, after all, and his dreams had been nothing but truthful, unlike most of the people in his life.

 _‘Good children don’t dream of such things,’_ his mother, a servant in the household of Lord Cicero, used to tell him when when he told her about the things he saw. _‘You must’ve done a bad deed today for God to punish you.’_

So he strove to be good. Even when Yixing told him that he was already a good person, Luhan ignored him. He was his younger brother, after all, and thus look at him with a biased eye. But his mother was a good woman, and an adult besides, and don’t mothers always know best?

He believed that, until that night.

He was woken up by yet another dream, only this time, what he saw shook him to the core that he bolted out of bed, ran out of the servants’ quarters and up the stairs, down darkened corridors, and into Lord Cicero’s room where--

_“His brother was in such a state of shock that--”_

_“--must’ve completely blacked out--”_

_“--can’t remember a thing?”_

_“It wasn’t until later, when the steward found him with blood on his hands--”_

_“--realize they were dead?”_

Luhan inhaled the musty air of his windowless prison in an attempt to clear his mind of the memory of accusing eyes and whispered gossip. He was going to be executed. What did it matter what this chambermaid or that cook thinks of him? All that matters now was Yixing. Who was going to take care of him? Will he be shunned for life just because of what Luhan did? And what about that dream where Yixing made a withered flower bloom? Did he also dream that or was he just hallucinating because of hunger?

“Good morning.”

Luhan’s eyes snapped open. Where his cell was empty but for him and his pathetic excuse of a bed, there was now a boy who stood taller than him, speaking with a slightly accented voice and wearing salt-stained clothes.

“What--”

The boy smiled. It was a shy smile, but a genuine one. It was the first that Luhan received in a while. “My name is Jongin,” the boy said. “I apologize for appearing so suddenly, but I’m here to help you.”

“Help me?” Luhan asked incredulously. Help him how? Was he going to make him ‘normal’ again? Make everyone forget what he did? Make it possible for him to live among other people again, without the whispers and the fear? Help Yixing financially so he could build a new life, a better life somewhere far away and be able to pursue his dreams of becoming a physician without Luhan’s crime making others unnecessarily wary of him?

“Yes,” Jongin said, though he didn’t say how he’ll help; or why, for that matter. “I just need your permission.”

Permission. Luhan remembered his mother’s words, warning him about devils who only need a person’s permission before they damn them. At the same time, he also remembered the last time he saw her-- “You have it,” Luhan blurted, before the image unwraps itself in his mind like a crumpled piece of paper being smoothed over. “What do I need to do?”

Jongin raised an empty hand to reach for his. Luhan took it gingerly. Jongin’s hand was cool to the touch but dry as bone. “Believe,” Jongin said softly, then raised the other hand not holding Luhan’s and snapped his fingers.

In the space of a blink, Luhan found himself sitting on the the deck of a galley docked in a port that smelled of winter and pomegranates. It was nighttime.

Luhan snatched his hand back from Jongin who didn’t seem offended. He stood up on his own and looked around. There was no one else but them.

No, wait.

There was a man standing near the stern with his back towards them. He was taller than Jongin but had hair the color of gold. Unlike Jongin, his clothes weren’t salt-stained. Even this far away, Luhan could see that they were of high-quality. He wondered who the man was.

“That is Lord Yifan,” Jongin answered his thought for him, “though that is not what mortals call him.”

“Mortals,” Luhan repeated. He looked around again, properly this time. And then he saw that it wasn’t exactly nighttime, for there were no stars when he looked up, but stalactites.

His mother was right. “I’m in hell.”

He heard the rustle of fabric, and when he looked to his side, Lord Yifan was already standing beside him. “You are in the Underworld,” he said kindly, though he did not look at Luhan at all, but at the dark sea that stretched into the gloom. “Not hell. It’s a very important distinction.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my actual A/N from 2013: _I really don't know what happened. I was supposed to write a prison!AU where soon-to-be mafia boss Kris masquerades as a lawyer while really recruiting people to join his famiglia. Oh well. Maybe next time._
> 
> My reply from 2017 a.k.a. the next time: You know how historical fantasy _and_ Greek Mythology just sneaks up on you while writing criminal profiles? It's crazy, man.


End file.
